Time to embark upon another Disney world, one that I've been looking forward to quite a bit! Coco is one of my favorite Pixar movies, and its one I could totally see represented in a future KH game someday. But for now, hopefully my rendition of it will suffice. Before we start, I just wanna make it clear that I do NOT speak Spanish, so some stuff in here may be... inaccurate (same goes for cultural stuff, again I'm not Mexican but I tried to be as culturally correct as possible here), but I tried my best to utilize what resources I had. Anyway, with that out of the way, let's get started! (UPDATED 11/7/20)
Chapter 29: The World Es Mi Familia
To be here with you tonight
Brings me joy, que alegría
For this music is my language and the world es mi familia
The cold, solemn silence filling the mausoleum stands as a stark contrast to the ironically festive din of the graveyard surrounding it. The booming celebratory fireworks give him just enough cover to quickly break into the revered structure and as he creeps inside it, he's sure not to disrupt the trail of carefully-laid marigold petals leading up to the stately stone coffin before him. Still, what catches his eye is hanging in a place of honor right above the coffin.
A beautifully designed, perfectly-crafted white guitar.
He tip-toes toward it, in awe of even being within the same room as an instrument as special and practically sacred as it is. While he normally would have never imagined even coming this close to it, recent revelations have helped him figure out the truth. That this guitar, along with its deceased owner's musical legacy, are technically his by right. Or birthright, rather.
He cringes as he hops onto the coffin, causing its cover to slightly shift. Still, he stays the course, knowing that it won't be too long before he's discovered, even on as busy of a night as this. His eyes are wide as he gingerly places his fingertips against the guitar's strings, his heart already stirring with all of the timeless memories that flowed through them in the past. Melodies he cherishes, melodies he finally wants to have the chance to create on his own, regardless of what restricted role his family wants to force him into.
Even so, he can't help but hesitate as he steals a glance up at the portrait hanging over him of this instrument's esteemed final owner. "Señor de la Cruz," he pipes up anxiously. "P-please don't be mad. I-I'm Miguel. Your great-great grandson! I… I need to borrow this." He carefully pulls the guitar from its spot before stepping down to the ground once more, not noticing a soft glow rippling through the petals beneath his feet. "Our family thinks music is a curse…" he sighs fretfully. "None of them understand, but I know you would have. You would have told me to follow my heart. To seize my moment!"
He raises the instrument, determined to prove his family's doubts and scorn wrong once and for all. To follow in his great-great grandfather's esteemed, musical footsteps. Just like he knows he's always been meant to do.
"So if it's alright with you, I'm gonna play in the plaza, just like you did!"
He smiles, excited for the very chance as he raises his hand to play-
A single chord echoes through the mausoleum. And through the Lands of the Dead and the Living alike.
Sora has never been happier to finally get off the Gummi Ship to embark upon a new world than he is now.
The past several hours went by in a blur of conversation he'd only felt roughly half present for. Ever since departing from Corona, Donald and Goofy had spent scarcely a solitary second doing anything other than discussing the momentous, downright monstrous problem they all now face. Plans, suggestions, and ideas had all been thrown around the ship's cramped cockpit, none of which ever ended up sticking for too long as they realized how futile they'd likely end up being. Still, Sora could tell through every resolved, worry-driven word his companions said that they had every intention of keeping their promise. Not only are they determined to stand by his side through this immense, incredible challenge pressing itself upon his heart; they're going to do whatever they can to find a way to put a stop to it.
The only problem is, Sora doesn't even know if such a way even exists at all.
Still, he can't deny that it's a measurable relief that the pair is now in on his formerly well-kept secret. With Donald and Goofy fully aware of what's happening, Sora gladly embraced the returned sense of honesty and earnestly between them that he's always treasured before. He'd finally told them about the nightmares, or at least as much as he could get out before resounding panic started to swell over his speech and his words ran dry. They'd made sure to take stock in every ominous, oppressive mark the Organization's various members might have made to them in the past to look for some kind of answer or clue. They had even gone as far as constructing a timeline of events that led all the way back the moment this mess had started, all in the hopes of figuring out how it could have even happened to begin with. All efforts Sora genuinely appreciates, though outside of the still fortunately prominent glamor spell Donald had cast on him to conceal the physical signs of his heart's corruption, he isn't sure if those efforts are really amounting to anything substantial at all.
Within the seemingly endless rounds of debates and discussions, a momentary, though rather temporary plan has been devised: to continue their search for the Keys as planned and look for any answers that can help set Sora's heart free from Xehanort's influence along the way. True, it's a plan that yields no certain results, but the most the trio can really hope for is that it accomplishes something useful eventually. Because really, none of them want to think of what might happen if it doesn't.
So they set out to another new world, an immense relief for Sora, who's all but gotten sick of talking about his concerning condition at such great lengths anyway. Especially after several months of staying all but silent about it. He hopes that searching for another Key will serve as a healthy distraction, if only for a little while, against the much larger, much darker shadow that looms just over his head. The shadow that looms over all of them now that the truth has been revealed.
What helps is that this world in particular is certainly a grand sight to behold. From a distance, it appears to be a massive city, far greater in scale than even the likes of San Fransokyo. It is composed of countless towering structures as far as the eye can see, each of them algow in lights and vibrant color as they stand stacked on top of each other in a strange sort of beautiful chaos, with raised roads and railways connecting them across. The trio is easily captivated by such an incredible, mystifying metropolis the moment it comes into their vision, though the path they're taking toward it is even more astonishing. They walk upon a bridge that seems to be composed entirely of bright orange flower petals, somehow creating a solid structure that glows under their feet with every step they take upon it. The entire world carries an air of mystery and wonder about it, and even upon a first glance Sora can easily feel the familiar call of a Key lying somewhere within it. Though exactly where and how that Key might be obtained is, as always, anyone's guess.
"Wow…" Goofy is the first to voice their mutual amazement. "This place is gigantic!"
"Where are we even supposed to start looking for that Key in all this?" Donald asks, shaking his head incredulously.
"No idea," Sora replies truthfully, turning to his companions. "But I'm sure we'll figure it out some-AH!"
Donald and Goofy instantly echo Sora's stark, frightened cry as they all catch sight of each other for the first time since arriving in this world. Initially, Sora thinks he's seeing things to the point that he has to do a double take as he looks over his companions, their clothes untouched despite the fact that both of them are shockingly bereft of any skin. Instead, their bodies are nothing but bones, literal skeletons from head to toe. An alarming sight that stuns Sora to the point that he doesn't even notice the equally horrified looks they're sending his way.
"D-Donald? Goofy?" he begins, his voice tight with fear. "W-what happened to you guys?"
"Us?" Donald scoffs, quickly gleaning what's happening here much faster than his companions are. "Why don't you look at yourself first?"
"Huh?" Sora frowns, taking only a cursory glance down at his hand only to find a sight that somehow terrifies him even more than his companions had. True, the darkness that had once been gathering upon his hand is still gone, but so is any trace of skin from it, revealing only a bony set of fingers that his glove is only barely hanging onto. His alarm only skyrockets as he takes stock of the rest of his body, which sure enough is similarly skeletal, with his belt secured more than a few rounds over his hip bones to keep his slacks in place and his undershirt strangely gone to reveal his now wide-open rib cage underneath his jacket. "W-what….? How…?" he gapes, frantically summoning his Keyblade to take use of its cracked, yet still reflective surface. What he sees on it is indeed his own shocked face staring back at him, or more accurately his skull, which is strangely adorned with a handful of colorful markings surrounding his eyes and forehead. "No way…" he mutters in apt disbelief as he looks between his reflection and his companions. "I-I don't know what happened but… I… think we might be…"
"D-dead?" Goofy anxiously picks up where Sora leaves off.
"...What?" Donald asks flatly, looking between the pair..
"N-no," Sora shakes his head, aptly distressed by such a morbid thought. "No, we can't be. T-this… this has to be something else! We can't just be… i-it can't all be over! We haven't even gotten the rest of the Keys! We're not done yet! Not even close!"
"T-there's still so much we haven't gotten to do yet!" Goofy laments just as fretfully. "H-however this happened, i-it happened way too soon! Why… I-I didn't even get one last chance to tell my lil' Maxie that I love him…"
"A-and I never got to tell Riku and Kairi-" Sora trails off abruptly, knowing that there were so many things he would want to tell his two closest friends before his demise, both good and bad. All things that, as far as he knows, he'll never get the chance to say now.
"Would you two calm down!?" Donald suddenly huffs, annoyed by just how dramatic his companions are being. "We're not dead!"
Sora and Goofy freeze, exchanging an uncertain glance amidst their palpable despair. "W-we're not?" Sora asks, stealing another brief glance at his now-skeletal hand.
"No!" Donald rolls his eyes. "My magic did this!"
"It did!?" Goofy presses, baffled.
"Aha!" Sora exclaims accusingly. "I always knew Donald's magic would end up getting us all killed someday!"
"For the last time none of us are dead!" Donald snaps, beyond annoyed by this point. "It's another glamour spell, to keep the world order! Remember?"
"...Really?" Sora asks, both him and Goofy finally managing to ease up a bit. "But… what kind of world would need us to look like this to fit in?"
This question is soon answered as the trio realizes they aren't alone on the floral bridge. A large influx of people emerge from the city to travel across the bridge, just as plenty of others are on the myriad of adjacent bridges connecting to it from some unknown place. Yet as a few of these people begin to pass the trio by on either side on their way toward their destination, they happen to notice a very startling trait about every single one of them.
They're all walking, talking skeletons, every bit as much as the trio themselves currently are.
"Gawrsh…" Goofy whispers nervously. "Guess this is just what the locals here are like…"
"W-would I be wrong in saying this is… kind of creepy?" Sora mutters, warily eyeing the admittedly cheery skeleton folk still passing them by.
"Not in the slightest," Donald says, mutually unsettled.
Despite the largely upbeat, festive mood most of the skeleton folk seem to carry as they travel across the bridge, a handful of them happen to catch onto the aghast glances the trio sends their way as they remain still in the center of it all. While none of the passerby really comment on it, someone finally does, namely an older-looking skeleton walking alongside his wife toward the mist-obscured far side of the bridge.
"Hey, chamaco!" the man shouts at Sora in particular. "Don't you know it's rude to stare?"
"Oh, uh, s-sorry," Sora says, reaching to rub the back of his neck before retracting his hand upon realizing just how bizarrely bony his neck now was. "We, uh, just…"
"Oh, they must be new here," the woman whispers to her husband before offering the trio a kind smile. "Our sincerest condolences. But for what it's worth, welcome to the Land of the Dead! Oh, and Happy Dia de Muertos!"
With this, the couple continues on their way, leaving a very confused trio behind after them. "Dia de… huh?" Goofy wonders, absolutely lost in the shuffle.
"Land of the Dead?!" Sora adds, focusing in on another part of what they'd just heard. He sends a pointed, skeptical look Donald's way. "I thought you said we weren't dead!"
"Keep it down, will ya!?" Donald quickly hushes him, casting a brief glance around to make sure nobody heard him. After all, the world order needs needed to be maintained, even if the forms they've taken on to do so are rather disconcerting. "We're not dead," he reiterates in a whisper. "But if everyone else here is, then we need to act like we are. We look the part, but we have to act it too. Think you can handle that?"
"Um… I guess?" Sora shrugs before whispering to Goofy, aside. "Do you have any idea how dead people are supposed to act?"
"Hm… I suppose they act just like livin' people, but a little less alive," Goofy suggests.
"...Right…" Sora frowns, turning back toward the glistening city before them. "Well… maybe this will all make a little more sense once we get into town. Who knows? We might figure out how to find that Key along the way."
"And maybe we could even find some clues on how to help you too, Sora," Donald reminds as they begin to head further down the bridge.
"Y-yeah…" Sora halfheartedly agrees. He should have known that venturing into a world even as strange and bewildering as this wouldn't have derailed his companions from their newfound mission, a mission that's just as high of a priority as looking for the Keys is, at least as to Donald and Goofy. To Sora, it's somewhat less so, for while he certainly wants to free himself from the threat Xehanort is posing to his heart, he still sees the Keys as a much more important goal. After all, whoever holds the majority of them could certainly make or break the safety of the worlds at large. And given that protecting the worlds was a task Sora has long since dedicated himself to, he has no doubts that his own well being can afford to wait when compared to the innocent lives of countless others.
The Land of the Dead is even more spectacular up close. Its wide streets are aglow in a dazzling array of lights, each of them filled with the skeleton folk that call this world home. Despite the fact that it's clearly nighttime, the city is abuzz with activity, a certain sort of warmth and excitement filling it as a stark contrast to the world's grim name. The trio also find themselves caught off guard on more than one occasion by the bizarre animals that seem to occupy this world: creatures of all types and sizes, decked out in vibrant neon colors as they skitter or fly about in just as high numbers as the skeletons they live peacefully among. Even so, the trio is rather overwhelmed by just how many structures and skeletons alike surround them on all sides, to the point that they very easily manage to get themselves lost amidst them in almost no time at all.
"How's anyone supposed to find anything around here?!" Donald huffs as the trio wanders through a less populated thoroughfare.
"Maybe we should see about getting a map?" Goofy suggests, scratching the side of his skull.
"A map isn't gonna lead us to that Key…" Sora says, taking a wide, sweeping glance of the area. "I know the people around here are all, um… you know, dead, but they seem friendly enough. So maybe we could try asking someone for help?"
"Help!" A sudden nearby cry breaks through the conversation completely, catching the trio completely off guard.
"Or someone could ask us for help instead!" Goofy points out the pair rushing in their direction from further down the street. The first of the duo runs by them without a second glance, a tall, lanky skeleton of a man whose clothes and bones have both seen better days. The boy who trails after him however, spares a glance back over his shoulder at whatever they're running from at just the wrong moment. He doesn't even see the trio until he accidentally barrels right into Sora, knocking them both clean off their feet in the process.
"S-sorry!" the boy exclaims, clumsily trying to pick himself up off the ground.
"No worries," Sora says, easily rising to stand before extending a hand out to help the boy up. "Are you o-whoa…" He freezes, completely stunned stiff upon catching a glimpse at the boy's face. Because like every single person they've seen in this world so far, this boy, just a few years younger than Sora himself is by the looks of it, is without a doubt not a skeleton. Instead, his bones are covered by warm, caramel skin, a stark contrast to the denizens of this world where the dead seem to be the norm. "Y-you… you're ali-"
The boy cuts Sora off with a sharp, startled gasp, apparently spotting something frightening in the direction he'd just come from. Without another word, he scrambles to his feet and takes off after the tall skeleton, with a large, hairless, scrappy-looking dog trotting along not too far after him. "Hey! Wait!" Sora calls as they round a corner, only for a shared cry of alarm to instantly divert his attention to a new problem entirely.
"Heartless!"
Sure enough, a flock of surprisingly colorful Heartless has arrived, only halting their ongoing chase as Donald and Goofy call upon their weapons to face them. "Guess this explains what those two were running from," Donald notes with an annoyed scowl.
"Then let's make this quick so we can catch up with them," Sora says, wasting no time in rushing forward with his Keyblade to land the first strike. His companions readily followed suit, taking the rather small pack of Heartless head-on. Fortunately, the alley they're in is largely empty, allowing them to do so without any interference, though the fact that these creatures are even here to begin is troubling. Especially for a world that's supposedly some kind of resting place for the souls of the dead. Souls that can still stand to be in some form of danger from the very specific kind of threat the Heartless pose.
The skirmish is fortunately brief, with the trio easily clearing the creatures out with barely any trouble at all. Still, they know it's likely that this group is only just a taste of what's to come during their time in this world. "Ya know, sometimes it feels like we can't even go five minutes without a bunch of Heartless or Nobodies showin' up," Goofy says with a tired sigh.
"Tell me about it," Donald scowls, crossing his body arms. "What's worse is that if they're here, then the Organization probably isn't too far behind them. As usual."
"Then we should probably buckle down and really start looking for that Key so we'll find it before they do," Goofy muses. "Don't ya think, Sora?"
For his part, Sora's hardly focused on the conversation at hand as he instead peers around the corner the boy had just hurried by mere moments ago. "We have to go after that kid," he says, turning back to his companions.
"What?" Donald asks, confused. "Why?"
"I'm sure him and that other fella are fine," Goofy points out. "Plus, since the Heartless chasin' them are gone; they don't have anything else to worry about."
"No, that's not it," Sora shakes his head. "That kid wasn't a skeleton like everyone else here is. He was… alive."
"What?!" Donald and Goofy exclaim in baffled unison.
"Are ya sure?" Goofy presses, aptly curious.
"Positive," Sora nods, already beginning to lead the way after where the boy had taken off. "I got a good look at him. He definitely wasn't dead like everyone here is supposed to be. So maybe he's somehow from another world, just like we are!"
"And maybe he's putting the world order at a huge risk, just like you are by saying things like that out loud!" Donald snaps, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one had overheard.
"Look, all I'm saying is we should investigate," Sora says as they continue down the relatively quiet street. "We're still winging it with the Keys, remember? So maybe something like this could lead us to some answers about it."
"Well, if you think it might, then we oughta check it out," Goofy soundly agrees, knowing that following Sora's lead on their Key hunts hasn't steered them wrong thus far.
"...Fine," Donald lets out a relenting sigh. "But we need to be careful, especially if the Organization is around. We don't want a repeat of what happened a few days ago."
"No… we don't…" Sora mutters, tensing up at the mere thought of his brief, yet utterly horrific capture at Marluxia's hands. A distressing ordeal that had led to the reveal of so many secrets a large part of him still wishes had never been forced out into the open in the awful way they had.
It isn't long before the trio comes upon a stony tunnel under one of the city's more bustling roads. And, sitting in the shadows of that tunnel is the very boy they're looking for, accompanied both by his dog and the skeleton that had run ahead of him earlier.
From their spot on the far side of the tunnel, the trio discreetly peers into it, relatively unseen. They watch as the man smeers some sort of paint on the boy's face for some result they can't quite see from their current position. "Ay ay, hold still," the man instructs. "Look up. A ver, a ver, up up."
"What are they doing?" Donald asksin a tentative whisper.
"No idea," Sora replies, deciding to inch in to get a closer look. In the process, however, he accidentally kicks a stray pebble, creating a tiny noise that sends a palpable echo through the length of the tunnel.
"Que en el-who's there?!" the man suddenly stands, startling the boy in the process. His face is only half-painted to look like a skull, and as soon as the trio makes their presence known, he quickly throws the hood of his red jacket up in a meager attempt at hiding himself. "It better not be any of you policía from the bridge. You chumps already let me go free for the night-even if you did take my Frida costume…"
"Uh… no?" Sora steps out into the open, Donald and Goofy falling in line right after him. "We're-"
"Oh!" the boy eases up immediately upon seeing the trio. "You're those guys I ran into a few minutes ago, with the cool weapons! I was watching you fight those monsters that were chasing us off, until he pulled me in here," he nodded at the skeleton standing alongside him.
"Uh, yeah," the man remarks dryly. "Word to the wise, mijo; when you're on the run from a bunch of loco monsters, you don't just stick around to see what'll happen to them. You run."
"Well, the good news is those, uh, 'monsters' are gone, "Sora informs the pair. "Though more of them are bound to show up. If there's one thing the Heartless have a bad habit of doing, it's popping up all over the place when you least want them to."
"More of them?" the man gapes incredulously. "Ay dios mio, is there any way tonight can turn into even more of a mess?"
"What do you mean?" Goofy inquires.
"It's… a long story…" the boy frowns. "I-"
"Hey, hey, we don't have time for any long stories," the man interjects, leading the boy back to his seat. "We're both on a tight schedule here, remember?"
"...Can't I talk while you paint?" the boy ventures with a small, hopeful smile.
"...Ugh, fine," the man rolls his eyes as he begins to do just that. "But you better hold still, chamaco."
The boy nods, though he still offers the trio as much of a friendly smile as he can while they walk over to join them. "We might as well start off with names. Mine's Miguel. He's Dante-" he nods over to the rather oblivious dog rolling around on the ground at his side. "And this is… uh…"
"I already told you, kid, the name's Héctor," the man grumbles as he tries to focus on his work.
"Nice to meet you guys," Sora offers the trio a bright smile. "I'm Sora, and this is Donald and Goofy."
"Hello!" Donald greets cordially.
"How ya doin'?" Goofy grins just as warmly.
"Hey! What'd I say about sitting still, kid?" Héctor interjects as Miguel attempts to turn around. "We gotta get this done quick. Should have already been done if you ask me…"
"Why are you in such a rush?" Sora asks, before realizing there's a much more significant matter at hand to discuss as he looks to Miguel. "Wait, better question: how are you not… you know…?" he trails off as he points to his own skeletal hand.
"How am I alive?" Miguel infers. "Well… uh… I'm… sort of… cursed."
"Cursed?!" the trio exclaim in unified alarm. Alarm that only spikes as Miguel raises his hand to reveal that the bones of one of his fingers are clearly visible through his fading skin.
"I need to get a blessing from someone from my family before sunrise so I can get back to the Land of the Living," Miguel explains fretfully. "If I don't then… I'm stuck here. F-forever."
"Whoa…" Sora frowns, immediately sympathetic to the boy's plight. "Well… maybe we could help you look for your family!"
"Sora... " Donald speaks up, shaking his head disapprovingly. Even so, Sora doesn't retract the offer. Instead, he offers his companions a glance that carries the unspoken promise that they'll search for the Key along the way. A promise both Donald and Goofy know will end up taking a back seat to helping their newfound friends in any given world, just as it always does.
"Eh… Y-yeah, I mean, if you really wanted to…" Miguel glances down apprehensively. "Problem is my, uh, only family here is Ernesto de la Cruz…"
"Who's that?" Goofy asks, Sora and Donald both completely out of the loop along with him.
"You know, the Ernesto de la Cruz?" Miguel is visibly bewildered as he turns to face the trio, much to Héctor's frustration. "One of the most famous musicians ever?"
"Sorry," Sora shrugs. "Never heard of him."
"Hm, I like these guys already," Héctor mutters with a small, smug smile as he continues painting Miguel's face.
"W-well, he's the guy I need to find," Miguel resumes his story. "He's my great-great grandfather! And once I get his blessing, I can go home and play for the world, just like he did! Best part is, Héctor here even knows where we can find him!"
"Eh, eh, eh, don't mix words, muchacho," Hector shakes his head. "I said I know de la Cruz. But just because I do, doesn't mean I can just get you VIP access into his fancy mansion."
"Well… do know where we should start?"
"...I might," Héctor hesitantly replies. "Anyway, you're all done." He pulls Miguel's hood back up before handing him a small compact mirror. "Tada! Dead as a doorknob."
Miguel grins at the sight of his reflection, satisfied that the face paint will be convincing enough to help him blend in among the Land of the Dead's skeleton denizens. The trio's also quite impressed, though Héctor gives them no time to comment on it as he begins to explain his side of the story. "So listen, Miguel. You three too, if you're gonna be along for the ride. This place runs on memories. When you're well remembered, people put up your photo on their ofrendas and you get to cross the bridge and visit the living on Dia de Muertos."
"Oh, we heard about that earlier," Sora interjects, curious. "What is it anyway?"
"...First you haven't heard of de la Cruz, and now you're telling me you have no idea what Dia de Muertos is?" Héctor eyes the trio incredulously. "Just how out of the loop are you three?"
"Uh… well, we-"
"We're not from around here," Donald says succinctly, safely leaving it at that before Sora can blunder things any further.
"Dia de Muertos is the Day of the Dead," Miguel explains. "People put pictures of their dead family members up so they can go back to the Land of the Living to visit them, just like Héctor said."
"And it's tonight," Héctor emphasizes. "Everybody gets to go back to go have the time of their afterlives and see all their relatives and pick up all the gifts they laid out for them. Unless you're me."
"...You don't get to cross over?" Miguel asks him with a frown.
"No one's ever put up my picture," Héctor pulls a photo out of his tattered vest, handing it to Miguel. "But you can change that!"
"This is you?" Miguel looks between the picture of the faded photo of a young man that bears a striking semblance to the skeleton sitting before him.
"Eh, muy guapo, huh?" Héctor smirks playfully.
"Wait, I'm a little lost…" Sora says with a confused frown. "So, if someone puts your picture up then… you'll be alive again? I didn't think that was how any of this works..."
"No? That's not how it works?" Héctor retorts, just as baffled. "You're still dead, you just get to go back to the Land of the Living for the night. The living can't see you, but you can see them. Seriously, everybody around here knows that, unless… oh…" His smooth expression turns sympathetic at this. "Are you guys, ya know, new arrivals?"
"Yeah, we just got here a little while ago, actually," Sora nods rather obliviously, not noticing the sharp look Donald is sending his way.
"Oof, just tonight?" Héctor exchanges a worried glance with Miguel. "Well, I gotta hand it to you, amigos, you're dealing with finding out you just died much better than most tend to."
"...What?" Sora asks flatly before receiving a sudden, unspoken reminder as Donald suddenly elbows his bony leg. "Oh! Right! Yeah, w-we're dead! Totally dead. J-just died tonight, like you said! A-and um… it's awful. N-no offense, though!" He quickly recants at the critical look Héctor sends his way.
"Ugh, ignore him," Donald grumbles, cutting Sora off before he can make things any more awkward. "He's having a hard time adjusting."
"No, I'm not!" Sora protests.
"Yes, you are," Donald hisses, hoping to stop this conversation dead in its tracks.
Thankfully Goofy steps in to change the subject just in time. "So let me see if I've got this. Héctor, you want Miguel to take your photo back with him so he'll put it up and you can cross the bridge. Is that right?"
"Si, si," Héctor nods with a wide, eager smile. "That's exactly it!"
"But I can't do that without de la Cruz's blessing," Miguel reminds fretfully.
"See, that's where we have a small hiccup," Héctor says. "De la Cruz is a tough guy to get to and I need to cross the bridge soon. Like, tonight. So are you sure you don't have any other family here you know? Someone a bit more… accessible?"
Miguel tenses up at this, hesitating before he responds tersely. "Mm, nope."
"Don't yank my chain, chamaco," Héctor scowls suspiciously. "You gotta have some other family!"
"Only de la Cruz," Miguel insists. He hands Héctor's photo back to him as he begins to leave the tunnel, Dante loyally following him. "Look, if you can't help me, then I'll just go find him myself-"
"Ok, ok! Fine!" Héctor hastily relents, hurrying after him. "I'll get you to your great-great grandpa."
"And we'll help!" Sora readily volunteers.
"We'll help…" Donald echoes much more tentatively. "But we're also supposed to be looking for that Key too. Don't forget that."
"Key?" Miguel asks the trio as they set out together.
"We're on the lookout for a special Key, one that we think might be somewhere 'round here," Goofy explains.
"Oh yeah?" Héctor asks skeptically. He carries a bit of a limp in his gait as he leads the group through the busy streets. "And just what does this 'Key' unlock?"
"Uh… we're… not sure?" Sora lies, knowing it's the best thing he can do to maintain world order. "It's just, uh… it's really important to us. Which is why we need to figure out how to find it."
"Tch, well finding some random Key is bound to be easier than getting to de la Cruz will be," Héctor says with a slightly annoyed huff. "He's a very busy man-what are you doing?" He sends a quizzical look to Miguel, who has taken to imitating his stilted hobble as they stroll along.
"I'm walking like a skeleton," Miguel replies, keeping the loose limp up. "Blending in."
"Oo, maybe we should try that too!" Sora suggests to Donald and Goofy, aside.
"But we already blend i-aaaaand he's doing it anyway," Donald deadpans as Sora eagerly follows after Héctor and Miguel's disjointed pace.
"Looks like he's getting the hang of it too," Goofy notes with a small, amused chuckle.
"Would you two knock that off?" Héctor huffs in annoyance at the pair shuffling alongside him. "That's not how skeletons walk."
"It's how you walk," Miguel points out.
"No, I don't," Héctor insists impatiently before lightly shoving both boys to the side. "Stop it!"
"Whoa!" Miguel suddenly stops short as he spots a large, brightly lit billboard nearby. "Ernesto de la Cruz' Sunrise Spectacular? Qué padre!"
"Ugh," Héctor scoffs. He walks over to join Miguel and the trio along the edge of the walkway. "Every year your great-great grandpa puts on that dumb show to mark the end of Dia de Muertos."
"And you can get us in!" Miguel infers excitedly.
"Um…"
"Hey! You said you had front row tickets!"
"That… was a lie," Héctor admits. "I apologize for that. Buuuuut," A growing grin spreads across the skeleton's face as he spots a poster hanging from one of the surrounding buildings. "I think I just found another way to get you to him."
"A music competition?" Sora reads the poster curiously.
"Looks like the winner gets to perform at some fancy party," Goofy adds.
"Not just any party," Miguel grins as he pulls the poster down. "It says here that it's a party at de la Cruz' mansion! This is perfect!"
"Sure is, chamaco," Héctor smirks confidently. "You did say you were a great musician, right? Just like… ugh, just like your great-great grandpa, I guess…"
"Er... well, I-I mean, I want to be…" Miguel's smile fades into apprehension at this.
"Are, want to be, same thing," Héctor says dismissively. "Point is, if you want to get to de la Cruz, then taking first prize in this competition might be your only chance. So…?"
Miguel pauses as he steals another glance down at his hands, noticing that the bones underneath his skin are steadily becoming more and more visible with each passing hour. A constant reminder that he's on an all-too short, possibly deadly time limit to get back to where he belongs. "I need to get de la Cruz's blessing," he reaffirms his resolve to both himself and the others.
"So, music competition it is, then?" Sora asks him with a steady smile. "Ok. We'll do whatever we can to help you win it, Miguel."
"Thanks," Miguel grins, genuinely grateful for their aid. "But… what about that Key you guys said you were looking for? Isn't it important that you find it too?"
"Eh, it'll turn up somewhere eventually," Sora says with a light shrug. "That's usually how looking for them works for us."
"Usually?" Héctor questions. "What, did you three used to go around looking around for these Keys back when you were alive?"
Sora sends him a confused look, still not quite used to literally "playing dead" as Donald has instructed him to do a handful of times now. "What do you mean when we were ali-"
"Y-yep!" Goofy hastily interjects, cutting Sora off just in time. "We used to look for Keys all the time before we, uh… before we died."
"And we don't have any plans on stopping even now that we are dead," Donald adds just more confidently, making sure to shoot Sora a critical glance in the process.
"...Yeah, what they said," Sora says stiffly. He offers both Miguel and Héctor a bit of a forced smile in the hopes of not arousing any further suspicion. And fortunately, they both seem to buy it, largely since they have much more pressing matters on their minds instead.
"Eh, whatever floats your boats, I guess," Héctor replies before wrapping a bony arm around Miguel's shoulder. "Alright, kid, let's get you entered in that music competition!"
"Eh, well, actually-"
"What now, chamaco?" Héctor groans as Miguel hesitated for a brief moment.
"I… don't have a guitar I can play…" the boy scratches the back of his head. "Does anybody know where I could get one in time?"
The trio shake their heads, equally clueless. Héctor lets out another disgruntled sigh, knowing that he's doing this random child he's just met only a few short hours ago far more favors than he really should. Favors that he can only hope and pray will pay off for him in the end. "I know a guy…"
A large shadow looms through the now empty tunnel, a shadow cast by the even larger creature creeping in after it. The winged, catlike alebrije lets out a low growl as she dutifully follows the scent she's been tracking, picking up on a certain spot within the tunnel that carries it strongly. A promising sign for the fretful family that's been following after her intrepid search.
"Have you found him, Pepita?" Imelda asks, rushing to fall in step alongside her alebrije. "Have you found our boy?"
Pepita answers by blowing onto the dusty ground, her unique powers revealing a glowing marking swept underneath the unsettled earth. The rest of the family soon arrives at Imelda's side to inspect it properly. "A footprint!" Rosa exclaims, surprised by the fortunate find.
"It's a Rivera boot," Julio adds knowingly.
"Size seven…" Oscar notes.
"And a half," Philipe muses.
"Pronated," Victoria finishes the thorough footwear analysis off.
"Miguel," Imelda confirms, confident that they've found a proper lead.
"You folks looking for a kid around here?"
This sudden question catches the Riveras completely off guard. The entire skeletal family swiftly spins around, Pepita doing the same as she lets out a deep, intimidating growl to accompany her tense, predatory stance. "Who's there?" Imelda demands, peering through the darkness at the far end of the tunnel. From those shadows, a lone figure emerges, someone clad in a slick black coat that comes with the cover of a hood concealing their face from view.
"Doesn't really matter who I am," the hooded man says with a causal air to his tone. "What matters is I think I can help you out with your little 'missing child' problem."
The Riveras exchange an uneasy glance at this, the man's mysterious manner and unreadable appearance alike ringing clear alarm bells for all of them. Imelda is the first to act on them though, her sharp sense of distrust toward this ominous figure prompting her onward before any of her family members can say a single word. In an instant, she slips her shoe off her foot to grip it tightly in her hand, aiming its well-crafted heel directly at the man standing a few feet away from her.
"I don't know who you think you are," she begins, her tone every bit as icy and threatening as her expression currently is. "But if you've hurt our Miguel, then lo juro, I'll-"
"Whoa! Hey! Calm down, lady!" the hooded man holds his hands up as he takes a small step back. "No need to whip your boot out. I haven't done anything to the kid; all I was gonna say is that I saw him wander through here just a while ago after meeting a few… acquaintances of mine."
"What acquaintances?" Imelda hisses, her shoe still raised and ready to strike.
"Aw, you don't need to worry about them," the man says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Those three are friendly to the point of being annoying about it. Can't speak for the other guy that was with them though. Guess you better track the kid down real soon if you don't want him hanging around with a bunch of strangers. And if you don't want him to become a permanent resident of this place prematurely…"
The group behind Imelda balks at this, all of them mutually startled by the thought of anyone else being aware of the frightening plight their family is in. "H-how did you know-" Julio begins before Imelda sharply cuts him off.
"Enough of this," she scowls impatiently as she puts her shoe back on. "We're wasting time we don't have. Let's keep looking." She nods Pepita onward to continue hunting Miguel's scent, the rest of the family eagerly following in the hopes of not only finding the boy, but getting out of this unsettling man's range. As for the man, he stands by, still as strangely nonchalant as ever as he watches them go, though not before calling after them with one final cryptic encouragement.
"Hope you find him soon!" he says, catching the brief, bewildered glance a few of the Riveras send his way as they take off. "What can I say?" he shrugs, his amicable tone turning a tinge darker as soon as the family is out of earshot. "I'm a sucker for heartwarming family reunions…"
By now, Miguel can see through the skin on both of his hands, revealing the set of bones hidden underneath. An unsettling reminder that if he fails to get his great-great grandfather's blessing in time, he'll soon have a full, permanent view of his entire skeleton right along with it.
"You ok?" Sora asks, noticing the boy's clear worry as he falls in step alongside him. Héctor leads the group to one of the city's largely less glamorous corners, a place that's nowhere near as bright and populated as the colorful routes they'd taken to get there.
"Yeah…" Miguel sighs, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Just worried about the curse..."
"Gawrsh, how'd you end up cursed anyway?" Goofy asks with a worried frown.
"Uh… I-I… might have stolen a guitar…" the boy glances away guiltily. "From… de la Cruz's grave."
"You did what?!" Héctor snaps, turning his head around a full 360. "You never mentioned that you were a seasoned graverobber, chamaco. Sounds to me like you got yourself right into the mess you're in."
"I know, I know," Miguel admits, clearly ashamed. "But I needed that guitar to play in a music festival back home."
"Then it's pretty ironic that we're going to get a guitar so you can play in a different music festival now," Donald points out.
"We're not gonna have to steal this one, are we?" Sora sends Héctor a concerned look.
"No, no, of course not," Héctor assures, leading the way down a rickety wooden staircase. "Like I said, I know a guy. Still, kid," he says to Miguel. "Let this whole thing be a lesson to you. It just goes to show that nothing good comes from being a musician."
"Tch, you sound like my fam-" Miguel stops short, quickly backpedaling. "My… my, uh… friends b-back in the Land of the Living! T-they don't like music much either."
"Hey now, I never said I don't like music," Héctor corrects. "It's musicians I've got a bone to pick with. Bunch of self-important jerks."
"But my great-great grandfather was a musician!" Miguel protests.
"Who spent his whole life performing like a monkey for complete strangers," Héctor shudders. "No thank you. Guácala!"
Miguel lets out a small, disgruntled scoff as Héctor presses on ahead, completely put off by his all-too familiar dismissive attitude toward musicians. An attitude he's had to deal with for so much of his life that he'd been forced to hide who he really is, who he truly wants to be. But after tonight, all of that hiding will at long last be over. At least, that's what he hopes.
"Don't worry, Miguel," Sora offers the boy a supportive smile upon noticing his visible frustration. "Once we get that guitar, we'd love to hear you play."
"Really?"
"Of course," Goofy grins as Donald nods his agreement. "We're always up for a good song!"
"Well, I'll be sure to give you guys one!" Miguel readily exclaims, hurrying ahead with a renewed sense of verve. "So how far is this guitar anyway?" he asks Héctor.
"We're almost there," he urges the others onward into a rather ramshackle part of town. It's essentially a small shantytown positioned on the docks, a collection of dimly-lit dilapidated shacks connected by questionably reliable plank bridges. Héctor seems to know the place quite well as he strolls in confidently, catching the eye of the handful of skeletons gathered on some of the nearby porches.
"Cousin Héctor!" a few of them greet him warmly.
"Hey! These guys!" he calls back to them just as playfully. "Hey, tío! ¿Qué onda?"
"These people are all your family?" Miguel inquires, trailing after him with the trio not far behind.
"Uh… in a way," Héctor shrugs. "We're all the ones with no photos or ofrendas. No family to go home to. Nearly forgotten, you know?"
"So… you're all each other's family, then?" Sora guesses with a small, hopeful smile. After all, the fact that all of these seemingly connectionless people had managed to create ties between each other is inspiring. Even if those ties had been formed both in death and in the absence of any others.
"Exactamente," Héctor nods, snatching an abandoned bottle of whiskey that had fallen by the wayside of one of the shacks. "We all call each other cousin or tío or whatever. Speaking of which, mi tias!" he calls to a trio of older women sitting around a small table, playing cards.
"Héctor!" the ladies returnhis greeting. They exchange a round of excited giggles as he fills their glasses up with the liquor he'd just found.
"Hey, is Chicharrón around?" he asks, pouring a pair of shot glasses for himself.
"Eh, in the bungalow," one of the ladies waves him off. "I don't know if he's in the mood for visitors though."
"Tch, who doesn't like a visit from Cousin Héctor?" he retorts wryly, leading the way into the dark shack ahead of them. A shack that looks like it's practically falling apart at the seams.
Miguel exchanges a wary glance with the trio, all four of them on their guard as they head inside the dank, dusty one-room shanty. It's packed to the brim with a mess of clutter and various disorganized collectibles. A fair share of similar scattered objects rests in the hammock hanging up on the far side of the open-ended room.
"¡Buenas noches, Chicharrón!" Héctor cheerily exclaims, lifting the sombrero off of the eldery skeleton lying amidst that mess.
"I don't want to see your stupid face, Héctor," Chicharrón scowls sullenly right off the bat.
"Come on," Héctor coaxes with a smooth grin. "It's Día de Muertos. I brought you a little offering." His smirk widened as he held up one of his shot glasses.
"Get out of here," Chicharrón rolls further into his pile of clutter.
"I would, Cheech, but the thing is, me and my friends here," Héctor motions to Miguel, Sora, Donald, and Goofy. "We really need to borrow your guitar." He nods to the somewhat weathered guitar that was sticking out from the rest of the random objects piled onto Chicharrón's hammock.
"My guitar?!" Chicharrón pulls the guitar close into a protective embrace. "My prized, beloved guitar?!"
"I promise we'll bring it right back," Héctor pleads, his smile still wide and somewhat forced.
"Like the time you promised to bring back my van?"
"W-well-"
"Or my mini-fridge?!"
"Ah, you see-"
"Or my good napkins? My lasso? My femur?!" Chicharrón lifts his leg to reveal a bone is noticeably missing from it. Incensed, he tries pulling himself out of his hammock in order to threaten Héctor properly. "Where is my femur, you-" He quickly cuts himself off as his bones suddenly rattle, a soft golden glow rippling through them as he weakly collapses back into his hammock.
"Whoa there!" Héctor eases Chicharrón back into bed. The others all watch, aptly startled by the strange shift they'd just seen. "You ok, amigo?"
Chicharrón lets out a low, tired groan. "I'm fading, Héctor… I can feel it. I couldn't even play that thing if I wanted to." Héctor falters at this, unsure of what to say about a tragic scene he's borne witness to far too many times to count now. A scene that's every bit as painful as it is inevitable. "You play me something," Chicharrón encourages, glancing between his friend and his guitar.
"N-no," Héctor quickly rejects the idea, his tone noticeably anxious at the very thought. "You know I don't play anymore, Cheech. The guitar is for the kid."
"You want it, you got to earn it," Chicharrón insists between weary breaths.
Héctor hesitates for a moment or two, but in the end, he ultimately folds, knowing he owes his time-weathered friend this much in his last moments. "Ay, only for you, amigo," he solemnly claims the guitar and poises it to play. The group standing on the outskirts of the room still says nothing, all of them captivated and curious as Héctor easily tunes the instrument and strummed a few experimental chords. "Any requests?"
"Heh… you know my favorite, Héctor," Chicharrón says with a fond, raspy chuckle.
Héctor nods, his bony hands skillfully settling on the guitar's strings as he begins to play a soft, cozy-sounding folk tune. One that he soon accompanies with an admittedly silly set of lyrics that everyone settles in to listen to. "Well, everyone knows Juanita," he sang, his voice clear and warm and pleasant. "Her eyes each a different color. Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in. And her…." He pauses for only a moment, stealing a glance at the others listening in and catching himself just in the nick of time before improvising his next words. "...Knuckles they drag on the floor."
"Those aren't the words!" Chicharrón protests.
"There are children present!" Héctor reminds. Both Sora and Miguel exchange a confused glance, the reason why he'd point that out completely lost on them both.
"Her hair is like a briar," Héctor continues exactly where he left off. "She stands in a bow-legged stance. And if I weren't so ugly… she'd possibly give me a chance…"
The last few notes of the gently-played tune hang on the air for a moment or two even after the song is over. Chicharrón lets out a soft, contented chuckle as he reclines back in his hammock, his eyes barely able to remain open as he wears a warm, bittersweet smile. "Brings back memories…" he sighs, pulling his hat down to rest on his chest. "Gracias…"
And then, that dull orange glow begins to hover over his bones once more, his body growing still and silent as Héctor looks away in grief. The others keep their eyes on Chicharrón though, watching with both wonder and alarm as that light overtakes him, his entire skeletal form evaporating into glowing specks of bright dust that dissipate into thin air. The entire process takes less than a minute, and by the end of it, there isn't a single trace left of Chicharrón. He's gone.
A solemn silence fills the room after that, broken only by a soft, sad whine from Dante as he lay on the floor near Miguel. After a moment or two, Héctor stands, proposing a toast to his fully-forgotten friend before downing one of the two shot glasses whole. He lets the other one remain exactly where it is as he begins to leave with the guitar in tow. Even so, that's hardly a moment worth walking out after as far as everyone else is concerned.
"W-wait," Miguel dares to speak up. "What happened?"
"Yeah, where did that guy go?" Sora asks, just as concerned and confused.
"Nowhere," Héctor sighs, his back turned to the group. "He's been forgotten. When there's no one left in the living world who remembers you, you disappear from this world. We call it the Final Death."
"But… how?" Sora frowns, bewildered by the very concept. Though some small part of him can't shake just how strangely… familiar such an idea happens to ring. "If you're already dead, then… what's after here?"
"No one knows," Héctor admits, forlorn.
"B-but… I've met him!" Miguel says with a hopeful smile. "I could remember him when I go back!"
"No, it doesn't work like that, chamaco. Our memories, they have to be passed down by those who knew us in life, in the stories they tell about us. But… there's no one left alive to pass down Cheech's stories…" Héctor pauses at this, almost as if to contemplate that fact before he suddenly perks up to urge the others to press on anyway. "But hey, it happens to everyone eventually. Come on, de la Cruzcito," he entrusts the guitar into Miguel's possession as he hurries out of the shack. "You've got a contest to win."
Not knowing what else to do, Miguel files out after Héctor, Donald and Goofy doing the same after paying a brief moment of respectful silence in Chicharrón's memory. Sora moves to follow, but stops short as a sudden whisper, a flow of words in a voice he's heard before ripples through his thoughts. Through every fiber of his being really, like the clang of a gentle bell that spells a strange, sorrowful message of eventually doom:
"No one will remember you when you're gone. There won't be any "you" to remember. I can't save you, _, not even a memory of you…"
He stumbles backward, bumping into one of the piles of clutter lining the room as the unbidden recollection of Naminé's voice slowly fades from his mind. In all of his relatively brief interactions with her, he has no memory of her saying what he'd just heard to him, and yet somehow he does, in a way he can't possibly begin to explain. He briefly wonders if it was perhaps one of Roxas' memories, yet he's quick to shoot the idea down. Roxas' memories always feel very distinct whenever Sora finds himself granted access to any of them; the same also rings true for Ventus'. But as this newfound, largely faded memory passed through his mind, it felt like it had come from a source decidedly different than either of them. It felt like this memory belonged to someone entirely different, entirely new.
"The third heart…" he whispers in dawning realization, slowly reaching a hand up to skim his chest. He pulls it away as he touches only bones instead, quickly reminding himself that his current form is just a disguise and that somewhere beneath it all his heart still remains. And somewhere within that heart is a third, unknown heart, a heart that has been all but obscured and silent for however long it might have been there. Until now.
He doesn't have a single clue of what to make of any of it; who this heart belongs to, why he's finally feeling their memories now of all times, what they might be trying to tell him. Each is just as much of a mystery as the very identity of that heart was itself. A mystery he desperately wants to solve, even if he knows he doesn't have the faintest idea about where to start.
He also doesn't have time to solve it, at least not right now, as his companions poke their heads back into the bungalow to check on him. "Sora, are you coming or not?" Donald asks with a slight hint of impatience in his tone.
"We've gotta get Miguel to that competition, remember?" Goofy adds much more easily.
"Huh?" Sora blinks, his prior train of thought completely broken. He turns to the pair, his first thought encouraging him to tell them of his newfound, sudden revelation. That is, until he realizes he hasn't really made that great or significant of a breakthrough at all. Especially since he doesn't even have so much as a name to go off of for the identity of the third heart within his own. "Oh, uh, y-yeah, I'm coming," he says simply, heading off after his companions, though not without a hint of sadness lingering inside his heart as he did.
Sadness that he only wishes he knew the source of.
The music festival takes place at the heart of the city, in an open square the locals refer to as Plaza de la Cruz. From the slums, it's a bit of a walk to get to, one that Héctor leads the way to with as much haste as possible (his chronic limp notwithstanding). As they travel, Miguel holds the guitar they've just been gifted with close, practicing a few absent melodies on it in preparation for the contest ahead. Still, he can't help but spare Héctor something of a curious glance as he walks alongside him, the trio making sure to keep pace not too far behind them, lest they get lost in the bustle of the ironically lively city.
"I thought you said you hated musicians," the boy muses, offering the older man something of a wry grin. "You never told me you were one."
"How do you think I knew your great-great grandpa?" Héctor says, his usual easygoing flare as apparent as ever. "We used to play music together. Taught him everything he knows."
"No manches!" Miguel gives him a light playful shove. "You played with Ernesto de la Cruz, the greatest musician of all time?"
"Ha! You're funny!" Héctor chuckles, pushing the boy right back. "Greatest eyebrows of all time, maybe. Music? Eh, not so much…"
"You don't know what you're talking about," Miguel says with a dismissive scoff.
"Well, he must be a pretty famous fella to have an entire plaza named after him," Goofy notes as they pass by a sign pointing toward said plaza.
"Tch, just another endless way for him to parade his vanity around," Héctor rolls his eyes as he leads the group down an empty alleyway as a shortcut. "Just like that big party of his and his 'Sunrise Spectacular'."
"Back where I'm from, we have a whole plaza dedicated to de la Cruz too," Miguel tells the trio, his eyes alight with adulation for his longtime hero. "He's even buried in my hometown! I have all of his records and movies and a ton of his merchandise."
"You sound like you're his number one fan," Donald notes with a small smirk.
"You bet. I was his biggest fan even before I found out I was his great-great grandson," Miguel nods with a bright smile.
"You must be getting pretty excited about meeting him then," Sora says, largely in an effort to get his mind off of the mystery he knows he has no time to solve right now. Even if he still wanted to solve it all the same regardless.
"Yeah, excited and… a little scared too, I guess…" Miguel admits. Before he can elaborate, he spots the newfound danger gathering in the alleyway just ahead of them. "Scratch that, really scared now! Look!"
He points to the crowd of colorful creatures, a far cry from the alebrijes that are native to this world as they stir with violent intent. They block the way forward as they focus their sights on the startled group before them. "Ay! More of those monsters?!" Héctor exclaims in apt alarm, taking cover behind Miguel. "Where do these things keep coming from anyway?"
"They're called Heartless," Sora tersely explains, calling upon his Keyblade to confront them. "And let's just say they aren't supposed to be here."
"Which is why we're gonna take care of them!" Donald proclaims, casting a wide-reaching wind spell outright to blow a few of the creatures back.
"You two take cover," Goofy says to Miguel and Héctor as he defends against one of the larger Heartless. "This could get a bit messy."
"W-we'll take your word for it! C'mon, muchacho," Héctor wastes no time in pulling Miguel behind a nearby stack of barrels. Both of them still peek over it to watch the skirmish unfurl.
Just as they had with the group of Heartless before, the trio takes this new horde on brazenly, knocking several of them out with ease right off the bat. The group is composed of smaller, less dangerous Heartless, nothing they haven't seen before aside from the vibrant coloration they've taken on in this world. And yet as the battle continues, what they don't see was a darker, more shadowy beast lurking on one of the lower rooftops bordering the alley they're fighting in. At least not until most of the other Heartless have largely been cleared out.
Because just as the trio squares off against the last few stragglers, that larger Heartless finally strikes, taking a heavy leap off the roof to get the drop on the trio below. While still watching from the sidelines, Miguel and Héctor spot it long before the trio can, though they barely have even a second to draw their attention to its unseen attack.
"Look out!" Miguel shouts, giving them just enough time to glance up and see the large shape about to fall upon them. Even that warning isn't enough to allow them to clear completely out of its path, however, and the creature crashes down upon all three of them at the exact same time.
"Sora! Donald! Goofy!" Miguel doesn't hesitate to rush out of hiding, despite Héctor's best efforts to rein him in.
"Miguel!" he snaps, hesitating to step out into the open even after the boy runs out of his reach. "Are you loco? Get back here!"
Miguel doesn't listen, though he does freeze up as the large Heartless rears its glowing-eyed gaze around to look at him. Fortunately, the creature doesn't have a chance to threaten him before it's abruptly vanquished, its massive form disappearing into thin air to reveal that Sora had been the one to finish the job from the other side of the Heartless. He sits on the ground, his Keyblade poised over his head just in case he needs to deal any further blows, though he eases up a bit upon exchanging a relieved glance with Miguel.
"A-are you guys ok?" the boy asks, gaping as he looks between the trio.
"Yeah," Sora gives him a reassuring smile as he lets his Keyblade disappear. "We're fi-" He instantly cuts himself off with a loud, aptly panicked cry the moment he steals a cursory glance at his lower legs. By all accounts, they've both been pulled clean off, completely disconnected from his knee joints as they rest limply on the ground a few feet away from him, his feet somehow still managing to slightly move on their own accord. It's a shocking, almost gruesome sight that certainly would have immediately made him sick, if his current form was capable of accomodating that. And his already palpable terror only spokes as a sudden, similarly disjointed hand happens to tightly grasp onto his wrist out of nowhere. "D-Donald!" he shouts, hoping that the magician would be able to make sense of this more than anyone else.
"What are you fussing about now?" Donald scowls as he sits up. One of his sleeves hangs loosely from his shoulder from the stark lack of an arm to fill it. "Wait… is that…?" He pauses, glancing between his armless shoulder and the skeletal arm currently latched onto Sora's, despite his best attempts at removing it. "Give me my arm back!"
"Oh, yeah, sure, I'll just walk right over to you and do that right now!" Sora huffs, motioning to his lower legs, which are currently in the midst of walking off on their own without him.
"Uh, while you're at it, do ya mind rounding up the rest of me too?" Goofy speaks up as his head, and only his head rolls over to the pair, eliciting a mutually horrified cry out of both of them. The rest of the captain's headless body roams about the alley aimlessly, eventually tripping over Sora's disconnected legs before clumsily falling to the ground.
"Whoa, ok, ok," Héctor steps out of hiding to address the dumbfounded, scrambled trio. Especially since Miguel is just as baffled as they are to even try to. "Cálmese. I know you three are new arrivals, but there's no reason to freak out."
"Uh, Goofy literally lost his head," Sora points out, his tone tight and anxious. "I'd say that's a perfect reason to freak out!"
"Eh, no te preocupes, this sort of thing happens all the time around here." To demonstrate, Héctor pulls his own head off his body, holding it up high for the trio to see as he sends them an easygoing grin. "See? No biggie. It pops right back on." With this, he puts his head back on his shoulders, rolling it around a bit to readjust it until it's like he'd never removed it at all. "It just comes with the skeleton territory. You'll get used to it eventually."
The trio is still hardly comforted, even as Héctor begins to gather their scattered body parts for them. "This whole thing just keeps getting weirder and weirder…" Sora mutters, shaking his head as he finally manages to pry Donald's hand off his arm.
"You can say that again…" Miguel agrees. He apprehensively pulls up his sleeve to see the bones of his arm starting to become more and more visible under his fading skin.
"You fellas better pull yourselves together. We don't want you falling to pieces that quickly, especially not you, Sora…"
"Huh?" Sora glances up just as Héctor escorts his legs back over to him. The others also tense up as a lone figure approaches them from the far side of the alley. One that just so happens to be clad in an all-too familiar black coat.
"The Organization!" Donald and Goofy exclaim in shared alarm. By now, the captain has reclaimed his head and the magician quickly finishes off reattaching his arm so both of them can rush to stand between Sora and the hooded member before them. After all, both of them know now more than ever just what kind of grave threat any member can pose to their young companion. They'd learned that lesson the hard way back in Corona.
"Uh… who's this guy?" Héctor asks as both him and Miguel help Sora to his newly-reattached feet.
"A major pain in our necks, that's who," Sora says, glaring the unknown Organization member down coldly.
"Aw, cut me some slack, kid," the Organization member rebuffs, his tone cool and casual and immediately familiar to the trio. "Without that little X marking the spot to help us follow you around, I had to find my way here all on my own. And let me tell you, it was not easy; this place is huge! But if you're here, then there's no doubt about it." He finally removes his hood, revealing that he's decidedly forgone the same sort of skeletal disguise the trio has. Something that shocks Héctor and Miguel in particular when they see his living eyepatched face. "That Key can't be too far away."
"Well, sorry to break it to you, but you've come all this way for nothing, Xigbar," Sora shoots back as his Keyblade flashes into his grip. "We're not gonna let you get anywhere close to it!"
"That's right!" Goofy sternly agrees.
"Get lost!" Donald snaps just as harshly.
"Ay dios mío..." Héctor whispers to Miguel, baffled. "There's another living person wandering around here? Just how many people managed to get themselves cursed tonight?!"
Of course, Miguel has no answer for this as he simply shakes his head, turning his attention back to the confrontation unfolding before them. At the same time, Sora fixes the Organization member with an irritated glare, refusing to let any of his foes get the better of him again so soon after what had happened Corona. "Did you really have to come all this way to bother us?" he asks bitterly.
"Bother you? Hardly," Xigbar scoffs with his usual wry smirk. "I'm just out on 'The Great Key Hunt' as I like to call it. We've all gotta do our part to round all thirteen of 'em all up; even me, and even you ." His ominous smile deepens as he points to Sora in particular, unsettling him in the same way the Organization's more recent jabs always seem to.
This time, however, Donald and Goofy are well equipped to know just how to come to their young companion's defense from such jabs. "If you think you can just force Sora to hand over another Key, then you can forget it!" Donald exclaims hotly, his staff ready for a fight.
"We're not gonna let you or anyone else in the Organization hurt or capture him or anything else ever again!" Goofy adds just as adamantly, both him and Donald maintaining their steadfast stance to protect Sora from any further harm. After all, they've both seen far too much harm come to him already; they aren't going to stand for witnessing any more.
"Yeesh, what's with everyone being so overdramatic around here?" Xigbar asks as his smile finally fades. "I don't have some grand, mastermind scheme up my sleeve like Marluxia did. All I'm doing is looking for a Key; nothing more, nothing less."
"Wait…" Sora frowns in distrustful confusion at this. "So… you're not here for me?"
"The world doesn't revolve around you, kid," Xigbar rolls his eye. "Anyway, as much as I'd love to stick around and chat, I've got a Key to find and so do you. Though from what I understand, I guess on a more immediate level, you've all got a contest to win. Best of luck to you out there, champ," he says to Miguel. He pushes himself a bit further behind Héctor as he offers this strange man a wary glare, Dante bearing low and growling at him all the while. "Hope you really knock 'em dead out there! Well, deader."
"Ugh, enough!" Sora snaps, thoroughly annoyed by Xigbar wasting their time like this. "Would you just leave us alone already?"
"Alright, alright, I'll go," Xigbar strangely complies, calling upon a dark corridor to take his leave. "But if you fellas do happen to find that Key first, drop me a line. I'd love to see it for myself."
"Tch, yeah, I'm sure you would…" Sora mutters disdainfully as Xigbar finally leaves. Even so, he can't deny that he's rather relieved once he's fully gone. After all, the greater distance there is between him and any given member of Organization XIII, the safer he feels.
"Por fin, I thought he would never leave!" Héctor huffs in exasperation. "He was a real creep, huh?"
"You have no idea…" Sora says with a tired sigh.
"H-how was that guy alive anyway?" Miguel asks, unsettled. "Was he really cursed too?"
"Uh…"
"Sure, let's go with that," Donald grumbles, eternally irritated by the Organization's complete disregard for world order.
"Sounds like you three were awfully familiar with him though," Héctor notes, looking between the trio. "Let me guess; you're not exactly friends, am I right?"
"Not even close," Sora looks away with a cross scowl. "Xigbar's part of Organization XIII, a group that's been causing us nothing but trouble for a long time now. Even more trouble than usual lately…" he mutters that last statement with palpable scorn.
"Oof, talk about taking your problems to the grave with you. From the way you're talking, you almost make it sound like they-" Héctor stops short, his eyes growing wide with sudden realization. "Oh. Ooooh. Did… did these guys… Were they the ones who… you know, killed you?"
"What?" Sora asks rather flippantly, completely caught off guard by this. The cryptic encounter with Xigbar has all but replaced any thoughts of properly maintaining the ruse they need to keep. "No! Of course, they didn't-" He's cut off by the sound of a sharp ahem from Donald, accompanied by a tight, scrutinizing glare that essentially orders him to hastily change his answer. "Uh… d-did I say they didn't? I actually meant that they did. The Organization totally killed us," Sora recants with a forced smile that certainly doesn't fit the morbid subject of the conversation. "They, uh… t-took all three of us out in one hit. We didn't even see it coming! W-which is why we're here, in the Land of the Dead. Because we're dead. Not alive in the slightest, nope. We're as dead as they come. In fact, we're so dead that-"
"Sora?" Donald interjects, his tone and expression both flat and annoyed.
"Yeah?"
"Please stop talking."
"But I… ok," Sora sighs as the group finally makes it out of the alley to continue on to the plaza.
"So that guy's looking for the same Key as you three are?" Miguel inquires curiously as he steps a bit ahead of the trio.
"Yep," Goofy nods. "But we're not gonna let him get it."
"What happens if he does get it? Will he take it back to the Land of the Living with him if he ends up making it back there?"
Sora prepares to answer this, but Donald swiftly cuts him off before he can disrupt their disguise any further. "Yes. And let's just say it'll be… bad if he does."
"Well… then shouldn't we focus on finding it before he does?" Miguel presses with a concerned frown.
"Hey, hey, chamaco," Héctor interjects, shaking his head. "We don't got all night, remember? First things first. And what is first is getting you home so you can put my photo up."
"Héctor's right," Sora agrees. "We can find the Key and deal with Xigbar later. But we need to help you first, Miguel, before it's too late."
A small beat of diffident silence passes at this before Miguel finally nods, offering the trio a warm smile in gratitude for the help they really didn't need to offer him, help they'll gain nothing from giving him in the slightest. But it's still help they're kindly willing to provide all the same, solely because it's the right thing to do. And given how important memories apparently are in the Land of the Dead, that's something the boy has no intention of forgetting anytime soon.
"Aha! Here we are!" Héctor announces as they all file into a new part of town. "Welcome to Plaza de la Cruz!"
The plaza is a wide, open area surrounded by well-lit houses on all sides, encompassing more than enough room to hold a steady crowd, which is what fills it now. Among that crowd, skeleton denizens dance around to the light, cheery music filling the air, merchandise and food stands eagerly pedal their wares, alebrije wander about with their respective owners, firecrackers pop and burst to life in bright flashes of color while people cheer them on and laugh warmly amongst each other. The entire scene is a happy, festive one, downright infectious, even for Héctor, Miguel, and the trio as they weave their way through the thick crowds to make their way toward the stage that has been set up at the far end of the plaza.
"Bienvenidos a todos!" A colorfully dressed emcee proclaims, exuberantly hopping onto the stage. "Who's ready for some música?!" The large audience roars into excited applause at this, their spirits high and energized despite their lifeless conditions. "It's a battle of the bands, amigos," the emcee continues. "The winner gets to play for the maestro himself, Ernesto de la Cruz, at his fiesta tonight!" She throws a hand up toward one of the city's tallest, most glittering structures afar on the skyline, the grand, gilded mansion de la Cruz calls home. "So let the competition begin!"
And thus, the night's performances kick off, bands and soloists taking the stage to play music and melodies of all kinds and genres. The audience has no particularly strong reaction to any of them, largely since they're all so different and few of them fail to hit a strong, resonating mark with the skeleton folk watching them. A fact that the trio notices as they join Héctor and Miguel backstage alongside the other contestants.
"Gee, it sure does look like it's a tough crowd out there…" Goofy reports with a fretful frown.
"Then Miguel will just have to do his best to impress them," Héctor retorts, his tone serious as he looks to the boy beside him. "So what's the plan? What are you gonna play?"
"Definitely "Remember Me"," Miguel says with a confident smile, knowing just how beloved the hit single is.
"N-no!" Héctor suddenly pulls the guitar away from him. "No, not that one. No."
"Come on," Miguel sighs in disappointment. "It's his most popular song."
"Ugh, it's too popular," Héctor nods to the other awaiting contestants practicing their acts. Most of which are indeed rehearsing their own renditions of the same exact song, which the trio can only assume is the aforementioned "Remember Me".
Héctor shoots Miguel a knowing glance at this, prompting the boy to come up with something else instead. "Um… what about "Polo Loco"?"
"Epa! Now that's a song!" Héctor exclaims with an encouraging grin.
"Well, whatever song you play, I'm sure it'll sound great, Miguel," Sora says just as supportively.
"Y-yeah…" Miguel apprehensively takes the guitar back from Héctor. "I hope so…"
"Hey, what's the matter?" Héctor asks him. "You always this nervous before a performance?"
"I don't know… I've never performed before."
"What?!"
"Never?!" the trio exclaims in equal alarm.
"B-but you said you were a musician!" Héctor says, aghast.
"I-I am!" Miguel counters as firmly as he can. "I mean, I… I will be. Once I win."
"That's your plan?!" Héctor asks incredulously, his face in his hands. "No. You have to win. Your life literally depends on you winning and you've never done this before! I-I'll go up there instead," he reached for the guitar, only for Miguel to pull it back away from him.
"No!" he protests. "I need to do this!"
"Why?!"
"If I can't go out and play one song, how can I call myself a musician?"
"Why does that matter?" Héctor presses frantically.
"Because I don't just want to get de la Cruz's blessing," Miguel insists earnestly. "I need to prove that I'm worthy of it."
"Oh, that's such a sweet sentiment," Héctor begins with a faux smile that quickly slips back into panic. "At such a bad time!"
Even so, Miguel doesn't waver, instead offering the others a sincere, determined look in the beat of silence that passes between them. While most of them don't really understand that determination at such a risky crossroads, Sora does, knowing from more than one experience just how difficult and meaningful the path to proving oneself can be.
"Well, I think you can do it," he returns the sold smile Miguel sends his way at this. It doesn't take long for Donald and Goofy to fold in warm agreement either, and though Héctor is still hesitant, especially knowing what's on the line, he soon finds himself doing the same.
"Ok, ok," Héctor sighs before putting on a resolved grin himself. "You want to perform? Then you've got to perform! First, you have to loosen up. Shake off those nerves." He shakes his entire bony body with a showy flare until his head briefly jumps off of it before falling right back into place. Miguel does the same much more rigidly, though it does help to ease him up a bit. "Now, give me your best grito."
"My best grito?"
"Yeah, c'mon, yell!" Héctor encourages. "Belt it out! Like this." He swiftly hops to his feet, unleashing a mighty whooping shout that echoes through the backstage area. "Ah, feels good! Ok, now you." Miguel attempts to let out a grito of his own, which only comes out as a shaky, uncertain squeal that lacks the excitable zeal Héctor had just shown. "Come on, kid…" he shakes his head disapprovingly.
Still, Miguel doesn't get a chance to try again as the stagehand calls him out with the nickname he'd signed up under. "De la Cruzcito! You're on now!"
Miguel grips his guitar tightly, his breathing short and anxious as Héctor and the trio help escort him to the stage. "Miguel, look at me," Héctor takes the boy by the shoulders just shy of the stage. "Sora was right; you can do this. Grab their attention and don't let it go! Make 'em listen!" With this, he gives the boy a light push to help him climb up onto the stage as the emcee announces him.
"Good luck, Miguel!" Goofy calls after him supportively.
"Be sure to give them a great show!" Donald adds just as brightly.
"And don't worry," Sora assures as the boy glances back at them briefly. "You've got this."
With this, Miguel finally takes the stage, walking up to the microphone as silence settles over the audience. The bright lights shining on him are practically blinding, though he can still see the sea of skeletal faces watching him, waiting for him to do something, to sing something. He's never been in front of a crowd this large before, much less played for one. And under the weight of all those expectant, empty stares, he quickly begins to waver.
"W-what's he doing?!" Héctor whispers in distress as he notices Miguel freezing up with fear. "Why isn't he playing?"
"Looks like he's got stage fright…" Goofy notes with a frown.
"Well he did say he's never performed before," Donald says, shaking his head.
By now, the crowd is growing impatient as the boy standing before them remains silent. A confused murmur ripples through the audience, their attention starting to fade as they whisper amongst themselves. Distressed, Miguel glances to the group standing just offstage for help, particular to Héctor as he offers him an unspoken reminder to loosen up as he throws out another skeletal shimmy. The trio nod their urgent agreement, all of them well aware just what's riding on this important performance. Namely, Miguel's very life.
It's a fact he's keenly aware of too, but there's something else that prompts him onward. That need to prove himself, his lifelong dream to finally play, to finally become the true musician he's always wanted to be. So, he takes in a deep, steadying breath, coles his eyes and grips his guitar before unleashing a loud, proud, powerful grito.
The now-confident shout resonates with the audience, regaining their interest as several of them rise up with encouraging cheers. And with that encouragement, Miguel finally begins to play.
He strums out a quick, stirring intro, one that leads way to the lively, upbeat song he's chosen to perform. He continues plucking its beginning notes out, still gathering his courage as he moves in a bit closer to the mic so he can sing along. "What color is the sky? Ay mi amour, ay mi amour," he sings, his voice bright and befitting the breezy melody. "You tell me that it's red, ay mi amour, ay mi amour!"
The audience begins to clap along with the beat of the tune, several of them lightly dancing along to the performance. On the sidelines of the stage, excitement and relief quickly starts to grow as the group there watches Miguel begin to genuinely relax and naturally fall into the song as it continues. "Where should I put my shoes? Ay mi amour, ay mi amour. You say put them on your head! Ay mi amour, ay mi amour!" He skillfully hits another series of fast, percussive notes, taking in the audience's uproarious delight as he claims the chorus with confidence he didn't have before. "You make me un poco loco, un poqui-ti-ti-to loco! The way you keep my guessing, I'm nodding and I'm yes-ing. I'll count it as a blessing… That I'm only un poco loco!"
As Miguel presses on with the song's instrumental interlude, Dante suddenly bites onto Héctor's sleeve, eagerly dragging him onto the stage to join Miguel, despite his anxious protests. Still, as soon as he's in front of the crowd, he makes the most of it, quickly falling into an impressively fast-paced dance to match the rhythmic beat of the tune. Though they were still on the sidelines, Sora doesn't hesitate in throwing himself and his companions into the riveting performance too. "C'mon!" he urges, not wasting a beat as he grabs Donald and Goofy by the arm and pulls them onto the stage with an excited smile. The pair doesn't have time to argue as Sora leads them into a light and cheery dance, one that accompanies the spirited tune Miguel is strumming as it brings out even more enthusiastic cheers from the crowd.
For his part, Miguel can't help but chuckle warmly as he watches the trio somewhat clumsily twirl around, before turning his attention back to Héctor, who's doing so much more masterfully. "Not bad for a dead guy," he notes with a wry smile.
"Not so bad yourself, gordito! Eso!" Héctor quips, keeping his fancy footwork going.
With most of the people in the plaza captivated by the playful performance, no one really notices the large alebrije stepping into the area, still intently tracking a scent toward that very spot. The Riveras run to Pepita's side, Imelda leading the way as she casts a worried glance around the densely-packed area. "He's close," she says to her following family members. "Find him!"
As they spread out into the crowd to ask around, they hardly pay any mind to the song and dance on stage as it continues with even more pep and verve than it had when it began. "The loco that you make me, it is just un poco crazy," Héctor sings this time, knowing the tune quite well. He bounces around all the while, making good use of his rearrangeable bones to add a bit of flare. "The sense that you're not making-"
"The liberties you're taking-" Miguel adds on before both of them sing together.
"Leaves my cabeza shaking! You are just un poco loco!"
The audience has all but gone wild with undivided support and elation for the talented group on stage, whooping and hollering in unified cheer along with them as they all unleash a series of spirited gritos. Almost all of the skeletons populating the plaza are completely engaged by the act, save for the handful that are in the midst of being asked about the whereabouts of a lost, living boy. The very same living boy that just so happens to be stealing the show on stage before them all.
"Un poqui-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-to loco!" Miguel and Héctor come together to finish the song's final lyrics off. The trio joins them in striking a bravado-filled pose to cap the performance off, the audience erupting into an incredible round of applause upon its completion. For a moment, the most Miguel can do is soak their cheers up in a daze, still trying to catch his breath from the awe of it all. He only barely hears the round of hearty congratulations the trio sends his way, but he does clearly catch onto what Héctor has to say as his bony hand lands on his shoulder.
"Hey! You did good!" he exclaims, beaming brightly. "I'm proud of you. Eso!"
That same sense of pride swells up in the boy's chest as he lets it wash over him in joyful, satisfied waves. Because for the first time in his entire life, he's gotten up and played out loud instead of hiding his melodies away. For the first time, he truly feels like a real musician.
Until…
He freezes as he glanced out to the crowd, spotting a handful of familiar figures looming about it. Each of them are clearly searching for someone, and he knows exactly who. But his sudden panic completely skyrockets as he notices one of them talking to the emcee, knowing just how close he is to being found out completely, just how close the dream he's only begun to realize is to being shattered altogether.
Without a word, he grabs Héctor and the trio by their arms, rushing to pull them all offstage as they're celebrating the high of their victorious performance. "Hey! Where are you going?!" Héctor asks, aptly confused.
"Yeah, what's going on?" Sora questions, similarly out of the loop as Miguel drags them backstage.
"We've got to get out of here!" Miguel urges frantically, knowing there isn't a second to waste.
"What? Why?" Donald raises a bewildered eyebrow.
"The crowd sounds like it's calling for an encore," Goofy adds. "We shouldn't just leave 'em hanging."
"That's right, we're about to win this thing!" Héctor narrowly manages to trail after the boy as he tries rushing away as fast as possible. "We can't leave yet!"
At the same time, the emcee takes the now-empty stage, regaining control of the still-exuberant crowd for a much more dire address. "Damas y caballeros," she quiets them down. "I have an emergency announcement. Please be on the lookout for a living boy." A ripple of hushed shock flies over the audience at this, all of them knowing just how rare and unnatural it is for anyone who is alive to be in the Land of the Dead. "Answers to the name of Miguel. Earlier tonight, he ran away from his family. They just want to send him back to the Land of the Living. If anyone has any information, please contact authorities. Gracias."
"Wait, what?" Héctor stops. The trio does the same upon hearing all this, knowing that it contradicts quite a bit of what Miguel had told them before. For his part, the boy flinches, half torn between running and staying to face a conversation he desperately doesn't want to have. "You said de la Cruz was your only family. The only person who could send you home!"
"I-I do have other family…" Miguel admits, knowing that he can't really hide the truth now. "But…"
"But wouldn't it have been easier to just have one of them help you get home?" Goofy wonders with a confused frown.
"Especially since you're on such a tight time limit," Donald huffs, sharing some of Héctor's rising frustration.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Sora asks much more patiently, noticing the boy's rising distress more than any of the others.
"I-I-" Miguel stammers, trying to come up with an explanation that won't make things any worse and finding absolutely none. "M-my family hates music," he begins as he meets the group's mix of upset, confused, and concerned expressions as evenly as he can. "If they sent me home, then I'd have to give up music forever! That's why I need de la Cruz's blessing instead; he's the only one in my family that understands!"
"¿Estás jugando?" Héctor snaps, by far the most angry out of anyone at this revelation. "You could have taken my photo back this whole time and wasted that time by lying to me! To all of us?!"
"You're one to talk," Miguel counters crossly. Even so, Héctor is having none of it.
"Look at me. I'm being forgotten, Miguel," he says, his tone grave and stern. "I don't even know if I'm gonna last the night. I'm not gonna miss my one chance to cross that bridge because you want to live out some stupid musical fantasy!"
"Whoa, hold on," Sora attempts to interject before tensions between the pair can rise any higher. "Let's just stop for a sec so we can figure all this ou-"
"It's not stupid!" Miguel argues against Héctor's earlier claim. The older man still grabs him by the arm to lead him back toward the stage.
"C'mon, I'm taking you back to your family," he scowls, pulling back against the boy's attempts to wrench himself away from him. "You'll thank me later."
"Let go of me!" Miguel shouts as he yanks his arm out of Héctor's grip. "You don't want to help me! You only care about yourself! Keep your dumb photo-" He pulls the skeleton's picture out of his jacket and carelessly tosses it back at him. "And stay away from me!"
"No!" Héctor scrambles to catch his photo, noticing as Miguel begins to flee. Meanwhile the trio, caught up in the middle of this dramatic split, tries and largely fails to stop him before he can slip out of the area entirely.
"Miguel! Wait!" Sora calls after him. Donald and Goofy stop short alongside him as the boy disappears into the still-dense crowd of skeletons surrounding the plaza.
"Chamaco!" Héctor shouts, having reclaimed his photo as he joins the trio in shared alarm. "I'm sorry! Come back!" Despite these pleas, it's largely already too late. Miguel is gone, intent on claiming de la Cruz's blessing with or without anyone's help.
"No, no, no, this is not good!" Héctor cries, turning to the trio, completely distraught. "Sora, Donald, Goofy, we have to find Miguel before he gets to de la Cruz. He's the only one who can take my photo back to the Land of the Living. Well, unless that living buddy of yours would be kind enough to do us a favor."
"I doubt he would," Sora says, obvious disdain for Xigbar in his tone. "But wait; you said you were being forgotten. So if Miguel doesn't take your photo back, then… will you… you know…?"
"Fade away?" Goofy fretfully fills in where Sora had trailed off.
Héctor takes in a sharp, anxious breath at this, but he ultimately nods in defeat. "Yes..." he glances down sadly. "I can feel it. I-I… I'm running out of time. But in whatever time I have left, I need to cross that bridge. There's someone... important on the other side that I want to see, even if… even if it's for the final time."
The trio is moved to silent sympathy at this, all of them struggling to come to grips with the idea of a vibrant soul such as Héctor's completely fading away into forgotten obscurity, succumbing to the unknown of the Final Death. Which is why Sora is the first to refuse to let it happen. "Well… let's find Miguel then," he says with a growing sense of resolve. "And a way to keep you from being forgotten."
"What?" Héctor looks at him incredulously. "Kid, it's already too late. I-"
"It's not too late until it's over," Sora counters encouragingly. "Even if it's not much, you still have some time left, right? That's better than none at all. And what's better is that time gives you a chance to do something about it."
Héctor stills at this, looking to Sora in slight disbelief, though his expression conveys a hint of newfound hope as well. At the same time, Donald and Goofy send their young companion shared, proud smiles upon hearing this, knowing this solid advice hadn't been intended solely for Héctor. Given the grave danger his heart is currently facing, they both know it's likely a message Sora is holding onto for himself too.
"Alright, alright, fine," Héctor folds with a long, weary sigh. "But for now, let's focus on finding Miguel. Even if he's heading to de la Cruz's mansion, the poor kid is still bound to get himself lost along the way."
"Or he could run into more Heartless!" Goofy exclaims worriedly.
"Or even worse: Xigbar," Donald grumbles with a scowl.
"We'll make better time if we split up to look for him," Sora says, glancing through the now-thinning crowd in the plaza. "Héctor, can you meet us at that mansion if you find him first?"
"Si," Héctor nods firmly, preparing to part ways with the trio for now, each of them well aware of what's at stake here. "And let's be quick about it too, amigos. We don't have much time left to lose…"
By the time Miguel makes it to de la Cruz's towering mansion, most of his former anger has ebbed away, though some of it still remains. Largely toward Héctor for his selfishness and his own family for their complete lack of compromise. His brief encounter with Mamá Imelda on the way here has done nothing to soften his lingering feelings of frustration, frustration he'd felt even before he'd ever step foot into the Land of the Dead earlier that night.
Still, he can hardly say his disgruntled feelings extended far beyond them. In truth, he feels quite bad about the sour note he'd left Sora, Donald, and Goofy on, especially since they'd been so willing to do whatever they could to help him before. A large part of him wishes he could bid his newfound friends one final farewell before heading home, but he's woefully reminded as he steals another look down at his skeletal hands that he just doesn't have the time.
So he sneaks into the mansion easily enough, his guitar still strapped to his back as he begins to work his way through the hundreds upon hundreds of guests inside. Only the most famous and renowned among the dead have been invited to this glamorous occasion and it shows from the fancy party attire and the exotic treats and talent on display. Much like the plaza itself, the air of the fiesta is bright and bombastic, music booming from the lavish grand ballroom as a group of skeletal synchronized swimmers perform in the massive guitar-shaped pool at the hall's center. On the walls, highlight reels from all of de la Cruz's iconic films play, the singer's iconic quotes echoing even above the modern mix of music playing. For a moment, Miguel is captivated as he takes it all in before remembering why he's here. He has a blessing to get. And almost just as importantly, he has a lifelong hero to meet.
"Señor de la Cruz!" he calls over the noisy crowd as he continues to weave between them. He spots a glimpse of the musician from afar and decides to follow him, though he isn't having much luck between all of the much taller figures populating the vast space between them. "Pardon me, Señor de la Cruz! Please, I-"
Miguel stops short as he realizes he's getting nowhere with this, especially as de la Cruz disappears into his crowd of guests, mingling somewhere among them completely out of sight. He knows there has to be another way, something else he can do to get his attention somehow, even among all these people. But what?
And then, in a bright burst of inspiration, it strikes him. He has to do just as Ernesto de la Cruz himself had famously once said. It's time for him to seize his moment.
That very same iconic quote echoes on one of the movies playing on the walls as Miguel climbs up onto the balcony overlooking the ballroom. He still remains relatively unnoticed, even as he takes a perch upon its railing, at least until he steels his courage to let loose the loudest, strongest grito he can belt out.
The ballroom falls into partial silence, many of the guests turning to the source of this shout as the party's music drops a bit. Just like in the plaza, he's gotten their attention; all he has to do now is get de la Cruz's.
He quickly chooses another one of the musician's greatest hits, strumming its rousing starting keys out on his guitar as he starts singing it to his intrigued audience. "Señoras y señores, buenas tardes, buenas noches," he hops down from the railing, working his way down the stairs as the party guests warmly listen to him play the classic tune. "Buenas tardes, buenas notches, señoritas y señores. To be here with you tonight brings me joy! Qué alegría! For this music is my language and the world is mi familia!"
Miguel makes it down into the ballroom proper, the crowd easily parting for him as he walks through them. And, suddenly, there he is, standing at the far end of the crowd, clad in a white, wide-brimmed sombrero and matching ritzy suit. The one who is turning to face him, finally catching onto the sound of his performance. The one he's been searching all night for. The one who can finally get him home.
His great-great grandfather. Ernesto de la Cruz.
"For this music is my language and the world is my familia!" Miguel sings brighter as he continues onward, knowing that this long, tumultuous journey is finally about to come to a close. At least, until he trips up, quite literally. "For this music is my lang-!"
His foot slips on the edge of the pool, which he'd all but forgotten about while keeping his sights on Ernesto instead. Miguel only has time to let out the most sudden of gasps before he falls right into the water, much to the alarm of the surrounding partygoers. Among all of them, Ernesto himself is the first to rush into action, tossing his hat aside as he dives into the pool to rescue the struggling boy. He wastes no time in pulling Miguel to safety, checking over the child as he coughs up the swell of water he'd accidentally swallowed in the mix.
"Are you alright, niño?" the musician asks, only for him and his guests to receive quite a surprise as the boy glances up at him.
The water has all but washed away the skeletal face-paint Héctor had previously applied, revealing his still skin-bearing face beneath it. A round of startled murmurs ripples through the crowd and even Ernesto can't help but stare at the boy before him in momentary disbelief. "I-it's you!" he exclaims. "You are that boy, the one who came from the Land of the Living!"
"You… k-know about me?" Miguel asks, confused.
"You are all anyone has been talking about!" Ernesto chuckles, though his smile soon fades into bewilderment. "Why have you come here?"
"I-I'm Miguel," the boy introduces himself, nervously rising to stand. "Y-your great-great grandson."
The crowd lets out a shared, audible gasp at this. Ernesto seems to be every bit as shocked as they are. "I… have a great-great grandson?"
"I need your blessing," Miguel explains, getting right to the point. "So I can go back home and be a musician, just like you. The rest of our family, t-they wouldn't listen. B-but… I hoped you would…"
An easy, supportive smile spreads across Ernesto's face as he places a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "My boy, with a talent like yours, how could I not listen?"
Miguel can no longer contain his elation at this, at being in the presence of someone who finally understands his dream, someone who had lived that dream through to the end. He races forward and embraces the musician, much to the delight of the spectating crowd, especially as Ernesto hoists him up to sit upon his boney shoulders. The musician is proud to show him off, proclaiming his status to the entire party as they all roar into a round of cheerful applause, glad to see a family reunited on Dia de Muertos, the very night of family reunions among the living and the dead itself. "I have a great-great grandson!"
If they didn't have a specific destination to go to, there was no question the trio would wind up lost without someone like Héctor to guide them around the massive Land of the Dead. Fortunately, de la Cruz's mansion rises high above most of the city's towering structures, its pristine white tower acting as something of a beacon for them to go to while searching around the area for any signs of Miguel. While they're on mutually high alert for any signs of recurring Heartless, strangely they come across none along the way, giving them the impression that Xigbar has no real intention on using them to harass the denizens of this world. Still, given their previous encounter with him, that hardly sets any of them at ease as long as the Organization member is still lurking around this world somewhere. A worrying thought that lingers at the back of their minds along with plenty of other palpable concerns as they make their way toward the mansion.
"So what happens if we're too late and Miguel's already been sent home by the time we get to the mansion?" Goofy pipes up with a question none of them really want to ask.
"Well, we, uh… hm…" Donald trails off with an uncertain frown, knowing that Miguel is really the only one who can take Héctor's photo back to the Land of the Living. The trio themselves aren't ill-equipped to do so, largely since it's highly unlikely that they can even access that half of this world at all given that they aren't even native to it. Which means that if de la Cruz has already sent the boy back, they'll have essentially no real way of helping Héctor at all. "I… guess we'll just have to come up with something else then."
"Like what?" Goofy asks with a frown.
"Um…"
"We'll figure something out," Sora reiterates, resolved. "We always do. Just like how we always figure out how to find the Keys."
"Speaking of which, any ideas about how we're supposed to get that Key?" Donald asks with something of an impatient scowl. "And before you even say anything about how we're supposed to be 'winging it', remember that Xigbar's somewhere around here and that might not be the best thing to do anymore if we want to get it first."
"I know, I know," Sora assures with a bit of an exasperated sigh. "And we'll work on it; but right now, Héctor needs our help more. His life-er, uh… death?"
"I think you mean afterlife," Goofy corrects.
"Afterlife, right," Sora nods. "His afterlife depends on that photo. Which means it also depends on Miguel and on us."
"Mm, alright," Donald folds, knowing that they can't very well not help their newfound friend when he's in such dire straits. "But as soon as we're done, we're getting back to looking for that Key, and as soon as we find it, we're leaving."
"What's the matter, Donald?" Goofy asks with a small chuckle. "Not a fan of our new looks?"
"Aside from my arm being able to pop right off, I don't really mind them," Donald says, crossing his arms. "What I'm not a fan of is the Organization getting their hands on another Key because someone decided to stick around longer than we need to."
Sora flinches, this curt reminder of their most recently lost Key striking up a particular point of shame for him whether Donald had intended it to or not. "Look, I'm sorry," he begins, his tone sincere and somewhat sad. "I just-" He suddenly stops short as he begins to glance back at his companions, only to spot something, or rather someone looming in the shadows at the edge of one of the nearby alleyways. Someone who just so happens to be clad in a particular telltale black coat.
Sora doesn't say a word, barely even thinking about what he's doing as he abruptly turns and runs after the mysterious member, not even hearing Donald and Goofy's confused calls after him as he does. He rushes through the crowds of passing skeletons also making their way down the street, his focus set on that alley, even as the unknown figure disappears into it. He doesn't have the faintest idea about who they could be-their small, rather feminine figure doesn't match Xigbar in the slightest, ruling him out-and he isn't entirely sure why he's even following them to begin with. But his heart urges him onward all the same, knowing that he has to. Knowing that a long-forgotten memory is finally nearing his reach.
The alley itself is dark and narrow, conjoining with several others to create something of a maze of empty corridors. The hooded figure always stays a good pace ahead of him, and from the looks of it, they don't even seem to be running; instead, it's as if they're floating, hovering just above the ground like a specter or a ghost or some other faded apparition. Still, as he quickly rounds another corner, Sora hopes he has a chance at finally catching up with them, whoever they are… only to run right into a dead end instead.
He stops just shy of hitting the tall brick wall that stands before him. The alley echoes with a dull sense of lonely silence, especially as he realizes whoever he's been chasing is suddenly, strangely gone. Or so he thinks.
Because the moment Sora turns to head back to Donald and Goofy, they there are, standing directly in front of him with just about a foot of distance between them. Startled, he stumbles backward with a small gasp, taking in who now stands before him. Now that he can see her up close, there's no doubt it's a girl, about Kairi's height if he could guess, with a similarly slight figure that is, sure enough, adorned in one of the black coats of Organization XIII. Her hood is pulled up, hiding away most of her features, but from its shadows he can still make out the lower half of her face. As well as the soft, largely unreadable smile she's sending his way.
"W-who… who are you…?" he asks her. His voice comes out tight and soft from the overwhelming, inexplicable sadness that has once again started stirring up inside of him.
Her smile widens just the smallest bit, a small, sparkling tear streaming down her unsurprisingly non-skeletal face. "Me?" she speaks, her voice gentle yet pained. Sora can't believe just how much she sounds like Kairi, yet another striking similarity between the two that he can't even try to make sense of at a moment like this. "I'm just a puppet…"
"Puppet…" The word echoes off the tall, suddenly white walls surrounding them, not in her voice but in the voices of many others, their tones all judgemental, callous, and cruel.
"Puppet…" That awful chorus speaks again, repeating itself like the clang of a massive, devastating bell.
"Puppet…" He collapses to his knees, practically deafened by that sadistic, stringent reminder as it rings violently through both his heart and mind alike.
"Puppet…" A strangled cry of anguish tries to escape him but he makes no sound. Instead, her voice is the one that comes out of his mouth, a scream filled with the unbearable agony that's being shared between them both.
"Puppet…" The word is whispered one final time, and with it comes a rapid series of successive flashes of memories. Of moments he doesn't understand and can't even see for how fast they all fade away. Just as she fades away right along with them.
And suddenly, it's all over. The world has gone quiet again, and when Sora finally manages to slowly open his tightly-shut eyes, he finds himself doubled over on the ground in the very same abandoned alley he'd been in before. Despite his current boney form's lack of physical lungs, he's breathless, bewildered by whatever it was he'd just heard and seen. The girl in the black coat is gone, a fact that hardly surprises him given just how incorporeal she'd seemed to be to begin with. But what isn't gone was the strange sense of persistent familiarity, of desperate longing and dejected grief, she's somehow left upon his heart in her absence.
Donald and Goofy's concerned calls for him are all but unheard for as much of a state of shock Sora is largely lost to. Still, he does meet their worried gaze as they hurry around the corner to finally catch up with him, both of them wasting no time to get down to his level to check over his well being.
"Sora! What's the matter with you?!" Donald exclaims hotly. "You can't just run off like that! Especially not now! What would you have done if Xigbar had cornered you back here? You're lucky you're not being dragged off to the Organization's hideout right now!"
"Are you alright?" Goofy asks much more patiently as he extends a hand to help Sora stand. "You look pretty shaken up… What made you run all the way back here anyway?"
"I-I… I thought I-no, I did see someone," Sora corrects himself. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that what he'd just experienced couldn't have been just in his head. "I-it was a girl; she was wearing an Organization coat, and-"
"The Organization!?" Donald and Goofy exclaim in apt alarm.
"You mean they have someone else here along with Xigbar?" the captain inquires incredulously.
"No, that's not-" Sora stops himself short, unsure of how to voice his own theory. Because in light of the mysterious memory he'd heard earlier, paired with what had just happened, the connection between both events is clear to the point that it's impossible to deny it. Somehow, someway, his heart just knows. "I don't know who she was, but… she wasn't with the Organization," he says, quite positive of that fact. After all, that girl hadn't radiated the same sort of typical sinister darkness and malicious intent its members usually do in the slightest. Instead, she'd somehow put off a strangely dim aura of light. "I know this is gonna sound a little crazy but… you know that third heart that's inside of mine along with Roxas' and Ventus'? I think… it might belong to her…"
Both of his companions balk in awe upon hearing this, neither of them knowing what to say to such a revelation, even despite Sora's growing confidence in it. "You really think it could be?" Goofy asks, aptly intrigued.
"Yeah," Sora nods with rising resolve. "And if it is, then we should do everything we can to figure out who she is and how we can help-"
"Oh, no, you don't!" Donald suddenly snaps in clear annoyance. "We already have a very long list of people you want to help. We are not adding any more, at least not right now."
"What are you talking about?" Sora scoffs, indignant. "Of course, we have to help her! She-"
"We don't even know who she is, Sora!" the magician counters sternly. "And even if we did, we've got bigger problems to worry about right now."
"Yeah, like finding that Key," Goofy points out. "Not to mention, well… I know you might not like to hear this, Sora, but… we should probably figure out a way to help you first. If Xehanort really does end up taking over your heart, then by the time he's done… t-there might not be any hearts left in there to save…"
"Y-yeah, but… I-"
"We know, you want to help," Donald infers with a tired sigh. "But we need to get you help first; and once we do, then you'll be free to spend as much time as you'd like saving Roxas and Ventus and even that girl. Ok?"
Sora glances down in disappointment at this, hating the mere idea of putting the hearts that truly need his aid aside in favor of selfishly focusing on his own. But really, without the Key to Return Hearts, what can he really do to save any of them? His current inability to help the hearts within his own is only made worse when he thinks about the lengths that Roxas, Ventus, and likely that unknown girl too, are all going to in order to safeguard his heart from Xehanort's malice. He can only imagine what kind of impact the stain of such a fierce fight is putting each of them through, a strain none of them should have to endure, especially not for the sake of the very heart that's keeping them trapped in the first place. Sora knows he owed each of them a great debt for their courageous efforts, a debt that he can't simply leave unpaid. But if the only way he can really repay them is by setting their hearts free from his own, then that's something that's just going to have to unfortunately wait.
So he solemnly agrees with his companions, dully following their lead as they return to their current objective of making it to the mansion. But along the way, Sora keeps on spotting the same exact vision of that girl, her hood still hiding her true identity away as she stands in the shadows of buildings and bridges. She's following him, he knows, but for as much as he might want to, he can't pursue her and the mysterious message she's clearly trying to convey to him. A message that she somehow whispers to his heart, playing out like a melody of a memory long forgotten by time. Long forgotten by everyone, so it seems:
"I used to be their puppet."
"But now my part is through."
"Now you could be their puppet."
"Unless we can save you."
Ohohoho looks like we got some interesting developments that may or may not lead into some even more interesting developments in the next chapter. Even so, sorry if this one is more movie-centric than anything else; the plot of Coco is already so fantastic in my eyes that I didn't really wanna try to fix what isn't broken. Even so, we will see some interesting deviations next time around, so stay tuned and don't forget to leave what you thought in the REVIEWS PLEASE! Until next time! :D
